


The one where Jensen shows Christian Grey how it's really done

by buttheyrebrothers



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Coming Untouched, Dom Jensen, Dom/sub Play, JaxCon16, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Punishment, Sub Jared, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-20
Updated: 2016-01-20
Packaged: 2018-05-15 05:26:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5773018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttheyrebrothers/pseuds/buttheyrebrothers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At JaxCon, Jared couldn't help himself but tease Jensen relentlessly. First the attempted striptease, then the hint at Jensen's dominant side with his comment about Christian Grey. </p><p>Now it's payback time and Jensen plans to show Jared how a belt is used properly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The one where Jensen shows Christian Grey how it's really done

_“I’ll be happy to show you how to use it properly”_

The words are still ringing in Jared’s head and they make it hard to concentrate on the rest of their panel. How is he supposed to answer mundane questions about their lives or the show when Jensen practically promised him to spank him later? And a promise it was. Jared knows Jensen better than he knows himself, has catalogued every inflection of his voice, the lines around his mouth, the crinkles of his laughter. He knows how every freckle moves on the skin he kissed so often the taste is burned inside his heart. The way he said those words holds four truths.

_Jensen wants it._

_It will happen._

_It will be punishment for riling him up in front of an audience._

_Jared will love it._

He has no recollection of how he makes it through the remaining minutes but he assumes Jensen covered his ass whenever he zoned out. That’s what they do, after all. They have each other’s backs.

Only, the end of the panel doesn’t mean that their day is over. There are photo ops, autographs – the things their fans paid lots money for. They deserve his full attention so he decides to get his shit together and give them the life altering experience they hope for. Or at least he tries.

It actually helps to engage their fans, to concentrate on being his happy, goofy self. So much that he almost forgets what’s awaiting him once the con is wrapped.

 _Almost_.

As soon as they reach their hotel room his back collides with the wooden door behind him. The air is pushed out of his lungs with a silent _oomph_ but an insistent mouth tries to press it right back into his mouth. Only, while the eager tongue brings wetness and heat, it takes all the breath from him in return. Jared doesn’t mind. He is used to the lightheadedness whenever Jensen gets his hands on him. He enjoys the flecks of light dancing in his vision. They look like Jensen’s freckles when the sun tries to kiss more of them onto his skin.

His knees get weak under the assault, another occurrence he has learned to associate with Jensen. Sometimes he feels like a character in one of those young adult romances his little sister read all the time. One where he is the awkward nerd and Jensen the popular guy everyone has a crush on because he plays sports and is in a band and just looks so dreamy.

A sharp bite to his lower lip jolts him out of his daydreams. Jensen honest-to-god growls against his spit slick lips. “Am I boring you, _sweetheart_?”

_Oh._

When Jared says he knows Jensen like no one else he means it. Because no one except him knows the true depths of the dirty mind of one Jensen Ackles. When they met, they had both been too young to know all the things that got them hot and bothered but they had made it their mission to find all of them, together. This, calling Jared endearments in a voice that means trouble, the mixed signals – that is something they had once stumbled upon by accident. Now, it rings in something they love to do but rarely find the time for. It is Jensen’s way of telling him he wants to scene with him. That the dominant in Jensen wants to come out and play. Jared knows how he has to answer if he wants to play as well.

He tries not to sound smug but fails. “No, _sir_. Not at all.”

The yelp he lets out when the other man yanks him down by his hair is everything but smug. Jensen brings their face so close together that Jared can smell the coffee on his breath and he thinks of the way it tasted on Jensen’s tongue in his mouth. “Thought so. Believe me, you won’t be so cheeky when I’m through with you, darling. I wonder what gave you the idea you could just rile me up like that on stage, make me hard and wanting right in front of our fans?” He pauses as if he really expects an answer from Jared. When nothing but a soft whine comes from him Jensen continues. “Whatever it was I will whip it out of you just like you asked me to. Because you want it, don’t ya? Tell me how much you want it, baby.”

They’re not even naked yet and Jared is already about to lose it right there. The way Jensen’s hand is still fisted in his hair, almost painfully so and the stark contrast of the way his hot breath on Jared’s face feels like a soft caress. It’s driving him insane and once again a low whine slips free.

That’s not enough of an answer for Jensen, even if Jared’s want, his need is pathetically obvious by now, so there’s another sharp tug on his hair. “I want, Jensen – I want it so bad, want you. Please. Imma be a good boy, promise. So good for you.” It’s like a dam is broken, words spilling from his lips in the no-man’s-land between them.

He’s embarrassed when he feels the first tears burning in his eyes. No one was ever able to break him open like Jensen does. He is the only one who gets him to this wondrous place where Jared can just let go and give himself over without fear. Jensen makes him vulnerable but he also makes him brave.

The hand in his hair is now petting him gently. “Shhh, I know you want to be good for me, I know. But you were a tease and I still need to punish you. So show me how good you can be and get naked. I want you to kneel on the bed, hands around the right bed post and ass in the air. Got that?” At Jared’s eager nod Jensen presses a firm but closed-lipped kiss against his mouth. Then he whispers against Jared’s tingling lips “Now, baby.”

Jared scrambles over to the bed and starts to strip of his clothes. In his haste he almost drips over his shoes and nearly plants on the floor if not for Jensen’s strong arms around him. “Such a klutz,” he chuckles. Their eyes meet and for a moment they break the scene to smile at each other, Jensen fondly amused and Jared enamored. The spell is only broken when Jensen’s hand lands on Jared’s bared cheek with a loud _whoomph_.

He backs away but not before he gives Jared one of those dirty winks. Jared flails for a moment, helpless in the face of Jensen’s charm and not better than their fans, before he finally gets rid of his socks. He is just about to mount the king size bed when he chances a glance at Jensen and finds the man staring back unabashedly. There is a hunger on his face that would have scared a lesser man but serves as the strongest aphrodisiac Jared ever encountered. To be wanted, even craved by a man like Jensen is a feeling like nothing else. If there were fairy dust on him he’d only need to think of it to be able to fly.

With an actual blush staining his high cheekbones he scrambles onto the bed. He does so not as graceful as he would have hoped but his coltish limbs tend to refuse cooperation in the face of his burning desire.

He’s in too much of a rush to be seductive. Hell, he’s glad he hasn’t injured himself so far. (It wouldn’t be the first time that he gained more from sex than great orgasms. Try to explain a black eye to your concerned friends and co-workers when you got it from hitting your head because you lost your balance while your boyfriend was pounding into you like there was no tomorrow. So much fun.)

Another deep chuckle sounds from behind him, a sound like ice cubes rolling in a tumbler of whiskey. “Eager, aren’t we? Maybe I should just bind you to that post and leave you like that. That would be a real punishment, now, wouldn’t it?” At that Jared holds his breath; afraid that one wrongly moved muscle will deprive him of the one thing he needs more than air. Jensen’s attention. “But I won’t. What would be the fun in that? Besides, I think I deserve a little reward for not jumping your bones like I wanted to all day. You have no fucking idea how much I wanted to give the fans a show they would never forget. God, I wanted to fuck you right there on the stage, have it recorded for the world to see. Let them know what a good boy you are for me.”

Jared can’t even stand looking at Jensen right now; he knows the sight would be his undoing. He’s already so riled up by those words alone that he doesn’t even care what’s coming out of his mouth. His only focus is the burning, pulsing need between his legs. “For Christ’s sake, Jensen! I will die of old age waiting for you.”

He almost jumps out of his skin at the cracking sound behind him.

All urgent thoughts of release are forgotten momentarily when he swings around and finds himself faced with a naked Jensen, the only piece of clothing another leather belt taut between his hands. But Jared cannot allow himself to think of that so he follows the familiar ridges and valleys of Jensen’s body. He takes in the bowlegs covered with fine blonde hairs, the half-hard cock adorned by dark pubes, the freckle-dusted skin, the fine bone-structure and expressive eyes. Even now, after ten years of knowing Jensen, he can’t help but think that not even Michelangelo would be able to catch such ethereal beauty. But what's most captivating in this very moment is the fire burning behind those bottle-green eyes.

“Sweetheart, you really think you should be cheeky right now?” Another crack accentuates his words. “You seem to need another lesson even more than I thought.” He slowly prowls forward, every step filled with measured grace. That is a Jensen no one but him gets to see. It took years for them to work through all those layers you grow up building around you but now. Now they're stripped bare to their very essence and comfortable to be this way with one another.

Jared only notices the tremors running through his body when a warm hand comes to rest between his shoulder blades. He averts his eyes when he feels Jensen's gaze looking for his. He hates it. Hates that he has so much more difficulties to accept the submissive parts of himself, the overwhelming need to have someone take care of him, to roll over and present his belly. But Jensen won't let him hide. Not from him. "Jared, hey. It's ok. Breathe for me baby. You still wanna...?" Jared nods, not trusting his voice just yet. "Okay. Then tell me again, what's our system?"

He tries to turn his breathing more steadily. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. “Green means everything is fine. Yellow means stop, we need to talk about this. And red – red means I want to end the scene.” When he’s finished a gentle hand cups his face and turns it to the right. Warm eyes meet his, void of the heat that filled them moments ago. He knows it’s still lurking there in these unfathomable depths. “You’re doing great. Now remember that you can tap out anytime. Same goes for me. That changes nothing on the fact that I love you. Got it?” Jared once again nods his assent, captivated by the warm breath on his skin and the pink of Jensen’s lips so close to his.

The kiss is nothing special, just a dry press of lips, almost innocent. It feels like coming home.

Jensen hums low in his throat like his vocal chords are savoring his contentedness. “I want you to face forward now babe. No matter what happens don’t turn around. You can make noises but no talking either. Except when you want to safe word. Okay? You can answer if I ask you a direct question.”

Jared does as he’s told and faces the wall on the right side of the bed. “Yes. Sir.”

“Very good. I’m a man of my word so I’m going to whip you with this belt. I know it’s been a while so you can decide how many lashes you think you deserve as punishment. Take a moment to think about it.”

Jared wonders how he’s supposed to think with the distracting caress of Jensen’s hand on his back. It’s a good thing he doesn’t need to.

“Thirty-eight.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath and the ensuing exhale sounds a lot like his name. “Are you sure?”

The question makes him smile. Jensen is so protective of him even when it is from the man himself. He is safe here.

“Yes. Let’s call it an early birthday present.”

Behind him Jensen is silent, his even breathing the only indication that he's still there. It's unnerving to not be able to turn around and look at Jensen but he knows better than to disobey.

"You're so amazing. You don't even know -" Jensen doesn’t finish his sentence but the hand in his hair tells him everything he needs to know with their loving strokes.

"Can you do another thing for me? I want you to count every whip out loud. Can you do that, Jay?"

"Yes, sir. Everything for you."

"That's my boy. Okay, hands on the bed post. Under no circumstances will they leave the post. If they do I will bind them to the post with my belt and you won't be allowed to come. Okay?”

“Okay.” More than, not that he needs to say that with the way it comes out as a moan.

“What color?"

"Green."

The first hit comes seemingly out of nowhere. It stings at first before the flesh gets hot. Jared almost slides off the bed, unbalanced by his surprise, before he catches himself.

It takes Jensen calling his name for him to remember that he is supposed to count. Lucky for him Jensen seems to be in a forgiving mood today.

"One." His voice cracks slightly and he wonders how wrecked it will sound by the end of their session.

The second lash he expects but it still hurts, more so than before on the already tender skin.

"Two."

It takes three more for him to notice the noises tumbling out of his mouth. Moans are spilling from his lips, breathless and needy. He already wants to beg, has to bite his lips to stop the words from falling out.

"Six." _Please, Jen._

"Seven." _I need you._

"Eight." _It hurts._

"Nine." _Don't stop._

"Ten." _I don't know how much more I can take._

“Eleven.”

He wants to beg, aches to touch himself and he’s so close to crack. But then Jensen starts speaking, pulling him back from the brink again.

“Would you have ever guessed eleven years ago that you’d be like this for me?  Tied up to my bed, ass in the air, begging me to let you come? Because I can see you want to beg but you don’t. And I’m so fucking proud of you. Such a good boy, doing as you’re told.”

The next minutes are like a dream. He’s still aware of the pain but it’s more distant, like it’s something that has already happened to him. It gets harder and harder to count out loud, to form words and to press them by the whimpers and moans he can’t stop. Pain and pleasure have become one and Jared cannot tell where one ends and the other begins.

“Twenty.” Jared needs something to tether him to the here and now.

“Twenty -. Twenty-one.” He feels like he’s floating, a disconnection between body and mind.

“Twenty-two.”

His anchor comes in form of cool lips pressed against the abused flesh of his ass. They burn hotter than every stroke of the whip and he falls back into his body, eager to feel Jensen on it.

“You were so pretty, Jay, that first day I met you. Such a pretty young thing. You thought I was pretty too, didn't you?  Yeah you did.  You knew then that you'd do anything for me, just like you're doing right now. And I love you so much for it.”

The praise is like balm, not only on his soul but also on his aching body. Like it only waited for Jensen’s approval, for his love to let go of the pain. It’s like he’s free falling now, his body unsure what to feel. It decides on blinding pleasure when a hand is placed on each burning cheek, thumbs hooked in his crack to open him up for Jensen. Vulnerable insides presented for his lover to feast on. He gets four broad swipes of Jensen’s tongue before he is bereft of the wet, soothing sensation. “That was one stroke for every year I waited for you.”

And with that they’re back at it.

And while he counts the next three whippings he feels different again. Like he was never before as present in a moment like he is now. He swears he can fell the atoms shifting with every stroke Jensen lands on him, like the universe itself is witness to their consummation of love. It’s only now that he becomes aware of the way precome is dripping in a steady stream from the tip of his cock. There is a small puddle already formed on the sheets and the aching flesh has taken on an angry shade of red. He imagines his ass looks the same.

“Twenty-six.”

He thinks he knows what Jensen’s doing by now so he’s not as unprepared for the praise that rains on him. It still throws him how he wants to preen under it. “Remember our first time?  Remember how I rode you ‘til you couldn't think straight and all you could say was my name.  You were an absolute wreck. I still think about that night. I get myself off to it when you’re not around and I always come so hard baby, I swear I can feel your big cock in me whenever I think about it. Hell, I didn’t think it would fit at first.” Jared groans at the memory. He wants it now, wants to be buried in the tight heat. “You know, this is as much a punishment for me as it is for you. I want you inside of me so bad, Jay, so so bad. But if you can come without a hand on you once we’re finished we’ll do that next.”

There is so much Jared wants to say to this, most of all an indignant _how are you even coherent by now?_ but he’s not allowed and maybe that’s for the best. There are a lot of things on his tongue he would be embarrassed about once the maddening arousal has left his body through his dick. So he concentrates on counting. Breathing. Not coming before they’re finished.

 

And people think the Winchesters have it hard.

 

He somehow gets to thirty even if he has no recollection how. The feeling of being present, being aware has faded and left him raw like an open nerve. Every time the belt kisses his cheeks it’s like a live wire to his groin. Jared is shaking, his muscles as taut as the belt and played by Jensen in the same way. Fast and hard. His toes are curling and there are tears in his eyes again. Everything is too much and not enough.

 

“Thirty-. Thir -.” The sob breaks through without a chance for him to stop it. It sounds like he’s dying, wrecked beyond recognition. He still croaks “Thirty-two,“ like a dying wish.

 

Jensen is at his side before he knows what even happened. His strong, capable hands cradle his face like Jared is something fragile and precious and it’s all too much. “Please don’t – don’t stop, Jen, green, green, green, gre-“ Lips kiss the words away, there and gone like a shooting star.

 

 _Crack_.

 

“Thirty-three.” It comes out like a prayer, like a plea to the heavens.

 

Five more. He knows he gets one more break as Jensen starts talking.

 

“And here we are, seven years later. You’re still a breathtaking sight, on your knees in front of me, begging for it, overwhelmed by what I give to you.  It's beautiful really. You’re beautiful. Jay, you’re so gorgeous, you have no idea. But I will show you, for the rest of our lives.”

 

This promise of forever is what gets him through the last five lashes. He’s holding on straws, body rocking back and forth, undecided if it wants to get away from the pain or closer to the pleasure. His knuckles are white where they grip the bed post and his body is slick with sweat. Jensen ruined him without laying a single hand on him. Jared remembers now why they don’t do this often. When he listens closely he hears the heaving breaths behind him and he knows Jensen is right there with him, just as tightly wound and desperate. It gives him the strength to hiss through clenched teeth,

 

“Thirty-eight.”

 

Silence.

 

Thick like molasses. Underneath, ragged breathing but it sounds muted to Jared, like he’s underwater.

 

"Jay, baby, come for me my sweet boy"

 

He’s distantly aware that he does as he’s told, because he is Jensen’s good boy. There is thick, hot come spurting from his cock and it feels like it is his brain that comes right through his spine. After that, nothing. Jared could be dead for all he knows and it would have been fucking worth it. His head is filled with cotton, worse than after that one time he and Jensen tried shotgunning. A groan survived Jared’s death and makes itself known to the room but he is beyond caring, doesn’t even notices it.

Jared also misses Jensen stepping up behind him, hand furiously stripping his cock. There’s only a single thought in Jensen’s lust addled brain. It’s the picture of Jared, wrecked and marked and his. He did this. There is only one thing missing.

The stray groan is his undoing, the push he needed, wanted, craved. He stumbles over the edge, flying, falling. Exhilarating joy pumps as endorphins through his system. His climax so high he gets lightheaded from the lack of oxygen. He’s still mindful enough to aim though and so he paints Jared's bright red cheeks white.

Later he will blame the cocktail of hormones in his system for what he does now, grinning cheekily despite the bodily exhaustion. Even giggles when he thinks _cheekily_.

With one hand next to Jared’s trembling thigh to steady himself he uses a finger of his other hand to swiftly draw a **J** in the mess he made, like it was snow on a windowpane. He repeats the motion on the other cheek and puts a little line over the crack before he collapses on the bed next to Jared.

Jensen pulls the other man in his arms and draws the comforter over them. Jared feels warm and pliant against him and he decides to enjoy the peace for a few more seconds before he’ll clean them up.

He falls asleep with a smile on his face, the picture from his canvas behind closed lids.

**J + J**

 


End file.
